#fire emblem yuri x reader

[halcyon-writings]

Hello!! Do you write for Yuri from FE3H?? If so,could you write a few fluff hcs,maybe general ones or 'how did they fell in love and court their crush/love'? Thanks!!

yuri my beloved,,,

nav.

I think that Yuri, despite everything that he has been through and seen throughout his life, is a romantic at heart. It is a want to have that connection with somebody, where he can be vulnerable with his heart. But to admit that is a terrifying thing, to allow someone to get close and allow such vulnerability.

I am a fan of meet cute/meet funny, so for this set of headcanons you are one of the poor saps that was brought along to the Abyss when the house leaders decided to go and investigate. You end up stuck between fighting either a giant literal brawler or a skinny dude. You value your health, so you chose to fight Yuri. The rest is more of a comedy than what you would have ever thought.

He starts more playful with his banter, even when you both are in the middle of a fight. Somehow it feels a little flirtatious, but no way... he currently thinks that you're some intruder, right? Right? (You probably just got dragged along by Hilda as she didn't want to put too much effort into the entre thing, yet was so invested in the potential of gossip.)

Um... sort of right. Because once everything with the Ashen Wolves are settled and done with, you don't really expect to see Yuri again. Until one day Byleth announces that the class has four new students. Lo and behold, Yuri was one of them.

It definitely starts out as a crush and he's thinking that this is a passing fancy (until it isn't *dramatic sound*). Especially where the banter is a continued thing. Whether it is when you're both assigned to the same task or chore, or just simply choosing where to sit in class.

Since he knew you technically more than the others. you were an obvious choice. As rumors about the Abyss under the academy were few and far in between, and the one's that were around weren't too positive. You were one of the people that didn't care much about the rumors. Then that puppy crush only continued, Hapi warns him about it. "Don't leave your heart vulnerable, Yuribird," She will say, only to shake her head when he simply winks.

Yuri is also a little intrigued by you. It is no secret that he is very pretty. So sometimes playful teasing comes off a bit more flirtatious to some, but it is all in good fun. You, however, seem to not really understand his attentions as much as he tries to lay it on, thinking it's just how Yuri is to everyone (and unbeknownst to you, Yuri has a group of unoffical wingmen, the rest of the ashen wolves who trade their chores around if it means he spends time with you. Although he insists otherwise with a suspicious flush to his face, when he usually isn't so flustered. very casual indeed).

Then the timeskip happens, and you both are separated for a time. So it gives Yuri time to really consider how he feels now, and soon he realizes that some puppy crush was far from what he would call his feelings. Especially not when he thinks about you and your well being all of the sudden. (He def fell first and fell harder, I feel it in my bones.) (He also gets the classic Oh. Oh. moment we all know and love.)

But of course, during a war it is not recommended to really court someone you potentially want to woo. However, Yuri instead opts for a more casual approach. (If he can be casual, that is.) Sometimes he'll save you a seat at the dining hall when you're coming back from scouting or from battle. Sometimes he saves you a little dessert or snack that he knows is your favorite when it is served as well. Just so he can see the way your eyes light up when he presents his surprise.

Then the war comes to an end. Which means that Yuri can really begin courting you earnestly. For comedic purposes, everyone else might have seen it a mile away, but you? You were honestly surprised. It makes Yuri's fondness grow all the more. Because you don’t have any ulterior motives to get close to him, such as for his crest given its rarity.

Now that he can really court you, expect more than just flowers. Of course, he still gets flowers, and the bouquets are very elaborate. But he gets you more gifts and trinkets that remind him of you. He is also more than happy to receive any gifts you might give in return. Their spot on his shelf is well organized and clean, not a single speck of dust to be found.

Once we get past the trauma, the wedding is so on /lh

[glowingbadger]

heyyy so i'm imagining the fe3h guys in a modern club setting. who's dancing with you and who's in the corner wishing they were at home?

i feel like sylvain is an obvious answer; he'd be catching ass and dancing and doing all the works- idk about the rest though. i feel like obviously felix is wishing he was anywhere but out, maybe dimitri is awkwardly trying to match the vibe and claude isn't taking anything seriously. what are your thoughts 🎤

Y'know, technically my requests are closed, but it has been FOREVER since I did a little FE3H headcanon break, so let's talk "sexy run-in at the club" - especially since weirdly enough this is a scenario that makes its way through my brain semi-frequently. Maybe because I'm one of those people who listens to music while thinking "how can I make this about my OCs and/or the character I'm currently fixated on"

As a heads-up, these will be of varying degrees of implied spiciness, and a general CW for booze and cigarettes applies.

FE3H guys x GN!Reader

A night out at The Club TM

Modern AU, semi-NSFW

Linhardt: Absolutely does not want to be here, got dragged here by his friends- that said, connecting with you over a surprisingly in-depth conversation while lingering at the far end of the bar is a welcome oasis in this maelstrom of noise and chaos. The suggestion to find a quiet place to continue your chat (depending on the type of club, a private room or a tucked away back hallway) very gradually and naturally turns handsy and heated as the conversation continues. (tbh I always imagine Lin preferring a hookah lounge over all, but maybe that's because of my own fondness for them- plus, sharing a pipe can be so intimate)

Caspar: The noise, the energy, the hype, he is absolutely living for it, he's ready for a loud and wild night. If you're ready and able to match his energy, it's awesome if a little concerning- but more likely, you'll be the level head to help keep him just a little more focused and sane. It won't be long before he stumbles into you with his face flushed and a goofy smile on his face and leans close to make sure you can hear him over the music when he tells you he can't believe how insanely hot you are.

Ferdinand: He thinks he's there as the group chaperone (he is not, that's Hubert), and he's buzzed sooner than he wants to admit. That said, he absolutely loves dancing, and will gleefully take your hand and pull you into the crowd with him. He's gentlemanly about it, of course- genuinely here to have a good time with you. But the pull between you is undeniable, and he's just so charming when he smiles at you through the flashing lights. You'll have to be the one to make any serious moves if you want to go further, but damn is he receptive if you do.

Hubert: Actually the group chaperone, and only along because he knows exactly how out of hand things could get without someone holding the reins. If you're a wild sort yourself, he'll of course tease you a bit with that crooked, sardonic grin- but he's ultimately gentle and doting about getting you home safely. If you're more the responsible type like him, he enjoys the end of the night, when you both have gotten everyone else settled and finally have some quiet time at your apartment to wind down and get comfortable in a more intimate environment. (Those late night/early morning post-club conversations hit different)

Felix: He's another who's been dragged along by his friends, though depending on the club, he may at least be into the band or DJ. You're more likely to find him smoking out back, more for an excuse to get out of the noise for a bit than anything else. If you're so inclined, he'll definitely share his cig with you, but one way or another by the time Sylvain or Ingrid comes to find you both, he's leaning over you with your back against the brick outer wall and your bodies so close that you have to lurch away from one another when you realize you're not alone. Who knows when he'll have the guts to follow up on the undeniable sexual tension.

Sylvain: As you say, he's absolutely in his element here and is positively drinking it all up. Half way through the night, he's got you pulled against him in the middle of the dance floor, his shirt half-open and his hands shamelessly all over your body. He is genuinely a pretty good dancer, and while your dancing together could practically be considered foreplay, he is impressively on-rhythm. Of course, while he absolutely relishes in the tension between you, the moment you lean close and say into his ear that you want him, he's ready to find somewhere private.

Dedue: He's working the bar, serving up drinks with stoic efficiency and keeping an eye on things to make sure no one gets up to anything too risky. Throughout the night, you just barely catch his eyes lingering on you from time to time, and when you accept your drink from him with a smile, he finally lets slip just the smallest shy smile of his own. By the time you work up the courage to ask him when he finishes his shift for the night, he's got his number written on a cocktail napkin for you and hands it over with your drink order, which he insists is on the house.

Dimitri: Visibly awkward even just walking into the place, probably gets carded a couple times even though he's obviously of age, simply because he looks and acts like he doesn't belong here. That said, with time and maybe a drink or two (not too much- he gets existential when he drinks), he'll relax enough to enjoy just spending the time with you and his friends. Hell, you may even persuade him out onto the dance floor "just for one song," which soon turns into another, and another, as he forgets himself for once just for the chance to be close to you like this.

Ashe: Ashe is always someone who's surprisingly adaptable, so while he's not exactly a party animal, he knows his way around a night out with friends. He's attentive to your mood and your vibe, encouraging you onto the dance floor with him if it seems like it'll help you get out of your head and let loose, or simply lingering against the outer wall and watching the crowd together while you two share a drink and conversation. You two gradually stand closer and closer together- you know, to hear each other better over the music, of course. But when he tentatively asks if you'd like to go get some air with him, you can't help your heart fluttering when you nod.

Claude: He's absolutely down for a rowdy night, and is even more so looking forward to whatever dumb bullshit he and his friends can get up to- he loves a bit of drama on a night out, though he prefers to observe and gossip, rather than be directly involved. Halfway through the night, you'll find him lingering alone on a balcony overlooking the dance floor, but the moment he sees you, he'll call you over with a charming grin, slipping an arm around your waist oh-so casually as he offers you a sip of his drink. It's absolutely intentional that every time he leans close for you to hear him, his breath warmly grazes your ear.

Raphael: He's working security for the venue as a bouncer or some-such, and it's hard not to notice his huge, muscled frame on your way in that night. The next time you see him, he's stopping by the bar while on break, and he greets you with a wide and earnest smile when he notices you staring. He quickly gets caught up chatting with you, and barely remembers to finish grabbing a water and snack before getting back to work- but before he goes, he stammers out that you're really cool and really gorgeous, and fumbles out his phone to ask for your number. (You can also bet that if anyone tries to get even a little fresh with you that night, he'll physically lift them off of their feet to escort them out of the club)

Ignatz: Definitely got peer-pressured into coming along by Claude and Lorenz, but he's doing his best to be open to the experience, at least. He's open minded enough about music that he's enjoying the band or DJ while he nurses some kind of eclectic craft beer in hand. He hadn't realized his friends had persuaded you to come along until you're inviting him out onto the dance floor and they're pushing him towards you with knowing smiles until he follows you, tripping over himself a bit and bumping into you until he steadies himself and starts to get into the rhythm of it all.

Lorenz: If it's a night on the town, Lorenz is going all out; he's got a table reserved for everyone on the second floor balcony and gleefully buys the first round of wildly over-priced cocktails, offering a toast to a night to remember. That said, he also severely over-estimates his tolerance, so a couple hours of dancing and pricey drinks later, he'll be pink in the face and rambling to you about how incredible you look tonight and that he can't keep his eyes off of you. The following day, he vaguely remembers how he embarrassed himself, but does assure you that he meant every drunken compliment with complete sincerity. Maybe something to discuss over a hangover-cure-brunch-date.

Seteth: It's a coworker situation, and he's definitely only here because everyone in the office convinced him that it would be a "productive, team-building exercise" for everyone to get drinks together after work. While he's stiff as ever, even he can't hide the way his eyes linger on you all night, and the way he fusses over you as you work your way through a few drinks raises more than a few eyebrows. Canonically, Seteth has unusually high alcohol tolerance, so he's likely to spend the night adorably flustered by your flirtatious looks and touches while putting all of his focus and energy into making sure you (and everyone else, to be fair) get home safely. And hey, being sternly told to let him know when you get home is one way to get your handsome but uptight coworker's number.

Jeritza: Honestly, he's giving "drummer in the band at a grimy punk bar" vibes, and I'm so here for it. He seems completely entranced and in his own world while performing, but after the set when you need a second to breathe and collect yourself, you step outside to find him smoking out back, and the intensity of his stare freezes you in place. You trade a few words and a few drags of his cigarette, but it doesn't take long for him to quietly admit that he noticed you in the crowd, and it takes even less time after that for him to have you back inside and pressed up against the wall of the green room.

Balthus: He's always in for a good time, and more importantly, a messy and rowdy time. He's got running bets on who's going to tap out first for the night, and it sure as hell isn't gonna be him. Before he's even that tipsy, he'll have you out on the dance floor with him, clumsily but enthusiastically jamming along while screaming the lyrics of every song you two recognize. With enough time to get lost in the blissful chaos of it all, you'll be "that couple" aggressively making out in the middle of the crush of bodies on the dance floor until he huskily whispers to you that you should head to his place.

Yuri: Oh, Yuri has got the hookups. He knows the bartender, knows the owner (or hell, maybe he is the owner), and you'll have as many free drinks as you can handle and night-long access to a private room at your request. He's perfectly comfortable on the dance floor, of course, and sees the push-and-pull game of gradually experimenting with touches and friction while feeling the rhythm along side you to be positively stimulating. He'll have you blissfully pressing your body against him by the time he wordlessly begins to pull you back to the private room with him, a smirk across those lovely lips.

[frickingnerd]

yandere yuri with an innocent darling

pairing: yuri leclerc x gn!reader

tags: soft yandere!yuri, overprotective boyfriend, innocent x not-so-innocent, teasing & flirting, bit suggestive

yuri loves how sweet and innocent you are!

you are so easy to toy with, so easy to tease and fluster!

he'll just have to lean in close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin and your face turns red in an instance!

or he'll accidentally touch your hand and watch as you blush and apologize, even though it was his fault

on the other hand, he can make some inappropriate jokes and comments towards you and you won't even get them!

you'll just innocently tilt your head, like a confused little puppy

while yuri enjoys to toy with you like this, he also worries about how innocent you are

after all, any other man could come along and take advantage of you, without you even realizing it!

luckily yuri was nice enough to never do such a thing!

he'd be there to protect you from those creeps, who would take advantage of you, just because you're too innocent to understand what's going on

he'll protect you from the cruel world and make sure you stay as sweet and innocent as you are now…

[dumbass-mha-simp]

Balthus x Byleth x Yuri smut

Info: female Byleth reader, f!Byleth is the archbishop and gets treated by her two favorite devout followers, hinted towards a regularly poly relationship between the three, definitely ain't their first time, post!timeskip, post!war too, no set route, she's stressed man, she's learning emotions, I love f!Byleth<3.

WC: 1.9k

Cw: weird religious guilt kinda vibes? Oral-f!receiving, anal f and m receiving, double penetration, threesome M/M/F, mentions of worshiping Byleth as the goddess, imagine there's lube-I justs didn't feel like writing it in lmao same with prep, drinking alcohol, sex grinding blah blah all that, not great editing, she worries that she isn't a good replacement for the church but it's not really explicitly mentioned.

A/n: I haven't written a full fic in years so it's probably garbage, but enjoy if you wish. Ik I can't stop thinking about these two.

-----------------~~~~~-----------------

What the holiest woman in Fódlan was doing could easily bring shame and disbelief to all followers of the church of Serios. You didn't want to imagine the response from Seteth if he found out. Yet still, your feet take you down the dark, dank hallways of Abyss.

You hadn't intended for this relationship to develop into what it has, but perhaps that's a result of all the change and feelings that the war had caused.

The headdress lay heavy on your head as you poked into rooms, looking for the men that were expecting you. Shoes cracked against the wet stone in a way that brought guilt with each of the heel clicks.

And in that room, Balthus and Yuri waited. Each has a glass of alcohol in their hands, and a third glass is waiting empty on the table. The two men talked, laughed, and rolled their eyes at each other's antics but followed the door's movement with their eyes restlessly, like a dog waiting for its owner.

A matching grin alighted on both of their faces. Balthus spoke first as Yuri raised the empty glass for you to take. "Well, I see little Miss has finally found the time to join us. Isn't that great news, Yuri?"

Yuri, with his eyes narrowed like a stalking panther, smiled at Balthus's obvious impatience. They had both been waiting for you. Yuri had enough self-restraint to be considered practically inhuman, but Balthus had been quick to suggest they may begin without you if you took even a moment longer.

Crossing over to the table and picking up your glass from Yuri's cold fingers left a chill on your skin already. As you poured your glass, Balthus's fingers danced across your back. "You'll keep us waiting even longer?" His impatient tone was now closer as he pressed up behind your back.

"Balthus, be gentle. I'm sure our archbishop has had a long day of work. We're here to help her relax, aren't we?" Yuri chided as he pressed against you, chest to chest, till you were sandwiched between the two men. "We should show our devotion and faith to our goddess, should we not?" Yuri purred close to both of your faces.

Balthus's rough hands are placed against your hips as he breathes deeply into your neck. His hands rub up and down your sides, pausing and squeezing your breasts. Yuri's thin hands were steady as he pulled the glass from your fingers and tipped the wine into your mouth, his other hand grasping your hair just strongly enough to pull your head back and have your mouth open.

Against your mouth you taste the sweet wine and the desire that fogs up the air, and against your ass, you feel Balthus's erection pressed into you, restrained humping the most blatant show of his desperation. Beside the thick cock that searches for your warmth and pressure, a hand lands on your ass. Yuri smiles at you delicately as he pushes Balthus back from you.

"Oh, boss, c'mon. You can't seriously want to wait even longer." His tone was frustrated as his fingertips pressed harshly into your breasts. Yuri's retort is calculated and warm, just like him. "I can think of something better to start with. Let's not push our dear goddess so soon."

Yuri slides himself between you and Balthus as he turns you around to gently lock your fingers together while he lowers you to the couch. Yuri sits in front of your body and begins to remove your bottoms, taking care to drag his short, painted nails down your thighs. Balthus watches from his spot, standing in front of the couch, and palms his dick through his pants. His chest heaves and falls as he watches Yuri's fingers unzip his own pants with one hand, and the other greedily shoves three fingers into your mouth.

Once Yuri's pants are lowered around his knees, he takes his soaked fingers back to tease himself. His other hand grasps your thigh as he lays himself down, with his ass directly over the end of the couch. His tone is breathy and teasing as he flips his hair away to look up at Balthus. "You're welcome to help me out back there, Balthus."

Balthus sucks in a breath and moves behind Yuri, grasping his hips. The clink of Balthus's belt shoots excitement through your body, and you watch as he spits onto his cock and spreads it around. Yuri turns his head back to you, whispering, "I always said you had the cutest expressions. Let's see what other precious faces I can pull from you."

Yuri's hands grip your thighs, holding you close to your face as his hot breath cascades over your cunt. You felt his fingers dig into your skin as he scrunched his face. Balthus lets out a deep moan from behind him and runs his hands over Yuri's ass and lower back. Yuri, now relaxed from the intrusion, dips his face into your pussy.

He drools down your thighs before he can even slurp up the juices gathering between the apex of your thighs. With each slow thrust of Balthus's hips, Yuri's tongue delves deeper into your folds. You feel Yuri's teeth scrape the top of your cunt as he moans into your pussy. The pleasure swims in your lower pelvis as Balthus's head hangs down, increasing the rate of his thrusts. Sweaty fingers curl around the pretty lavender hair that decorates your thighs before you even process how you managed to move your hands from their death grip on the arm of the couch.

There was no doubt Yuri would be good with his tongue, for all the back talking he did. But there was something truly enchanting about watching him lose himself in the thrusting of a man you knew all too well could bring someone to tears with his dick alone. Balthus was kind, but that didn't change the fact that his pace could be brutal. Seeing Yuri's ministrations between your thighs halt, when Balthus had thrust particularly hard, was breath-taking.

As your fingers and thighs begin to tingle with the threat of your oncoming orgasm, Yuri wrenches his face from your soaked cunt. He reaches a hand back, fingers spread, to signal Balthus's thrusts to cease. "Let's switch back now." Yuri's voice is all breath, but as demanding as always. Balthus lays a hand on his ass, and Yuri pushes himself up. His hands once again grasp yours as he pulls you into a sitting position. Balthus circles around behind you to rub scarred fingers gently into the curves of your hips. You undress Yuri while Balthus undresses you, and you wonder if you're all so drunk off touch that it seemed more reasonable than undressing yourselves.

Balthus wraps an arm around your back sweetly and shoves his fingers into Yuri's mouth. As Yuri licks and slurps Balthus's fingers, you move your lips against Yuri's neck. His perfume is sweet and intoxicating. You can tell when his throat rumbles with the sucking and teeth scraping you abuse his neck with. Balthus's fingers wetly slid from Yuri's mouth, and now they circled to your behind before pushing in to prepare you. Yuri's mouth takes yours as, eventually, Balthus's drenched cock slides slowly and carefully into your ass.

You whimper and twitch, but Balthus's hands rub you gently, and Yuri's tongue leaves you unable to pull away to wince. Yuri pulls from the kiss to spit the mixture of his own and your saliva down onto his own cock. Once Balthus is fully sheathed into your ass, Yuri begins to push into your cunt. Balthus and Yuri's hands meet on your waist, and they kiss before deciding to take either side of your neck for themselves.

Your hands twist their way into both of their hair as your head is thrown back with pleasure. Their hands grasp your hips to raise you on both of their cocks before letting you sink back down. Their pace begins to match up and become more steady as they focus on working together towards the pleasure they both crave. Balthus's voice is gruff as he grunts, "Yeah, Byleth. Our sweet goddess can take two cocks at once, can't she? Such a good girl taking us so well, Byleth."

Yuri's voice, in comparison, is made of darling mewling and breathy gasps and sighs. The feeling of being so full nearly steals all your breath from your lungs. It's nearly overwhelming with the thrusts into both ends of you at once. Yuri's lips clumsily slip past you as he tries to kiss you. You can understand why Balthus groaned as he kissed Yuri, as the taste of your juices are still present in the warm confines of his mouth. Balthus's hands reach once more to your breasts to knead them in the way he knows makes you squeal.

Yuri's hands begin to grasp your hips tighter as he tries to speed up the pace. Balthus looks over your shoulder at him before glancing at you for confirmation that you agree. A small nod from yourself is interrupted by Yuri's voice, deeper than usual, pleading, "Please go faster. Please. Let's finish together."

The hand you hold in his hair strokes through the soft stands gently, assuring him, "How could I deny my most devoted followers?" Balthus groans as he follows Yuri's new pace. The feeling of their thrusts is so filling that you wonder if they are hitting your lungs themselves. The breath is stolen from your body, yet it returns in gasps as Yuri and Balthus's fingers simultaneously join against your clit. Their pace is messy, and their fingers slide against you at different times, but it's all euphoric.

The warmth and pressure build in your cunt before the ropes snap inside of you. Your mouth falls open, and half-moans and half-screams pour out without a care for how you present yourself. You are human, a human in endless pleasure, and Yuri and Balthus take a second to look at you in reverence. Their hips now aren't in sync as Yuri begins to twitch and snap his hips into you hard enough to bruise. You feel his warm seed spill into your clenching walls.

Balthus is last to finish; his hips fasten only to slow when he slowly pushes his spurts of cum deep into you with each roll of his hips.

The burn in your thighs is searing, and the fog of your mind can barely register the touches and kisses. Sweat-soaked and dumb off of the pleasure, you find you aren't the only one exhausted. Their hands join once again to lift you off of each of their softening cocks. Balthus moves to the side to lay you down once again on the couch. Yuri has slinked off to the bathroom, and you hear the tap running and a small towel being wrung out.

Balthus's fingers thread through your hair, watching your face for any pain or discomfort. Once Yuri returns, he begins to clean you up. You wince as the wet washcloth wipes at your thighs and ass. He apologizes while very unapologetically smiling smugly down at you. Balthus takes the towel next and wipes himself down. Yuri's hands find their way to the tops of your thighs as he gently kisses your lower stomach and upper thighs.

The fit on the couch is tight, but with Balthus pressed tight to your side and Yuri lying atop you, it feels comfortable and safe. The responsibility of Fódlan can feel suffocating, yet when met with Balthus and Yuri, the pressures eased. However scandalous, the need to have them both by your side is apparent.

[mt-musings]

To Inherit the Night - 17

She hadn’t managed to kill Arundel. She was quite sure now that he hadn’t even been there during her escape—something she thought, perhaps, she should be grateful for. 

What she had managed to do was to tear a hole through the wall of her cell, kill at least four attendants, steal a handful of the small bottles of the drug, and claw her way from the lab. 

She’d checked the other cells before she’d left, at least all the ones with open bars, but there hadn’t been anyone left alive to save. 

She tried not to remember their frail, broken bodies left haplessly on the floors of the cells, their sunken faces and matted, graying hair. 

She would kill Arundel for them now, too.

The adrenaline of her escape had begun to wear off. She’d begun to realize how tired she was, how weak her legs had grown after almost two years of disuse. Her left leg kept giving out, but if there was pain she didn’t really notice.

She fumbled for one of the bottles, slipping it into the metal contraption the mages had used to stab it into her veins. She pushed the little blade into the skin of her thigh without hesitation, relishing the relief that came as she squeezed the tigger of the thing. 

She shoved it back into her pocket, shuffling forward faster than before, keenly aware that she needed to get as far away from that lab as fast as she could manage. 

Faster than they could find her and drag her back.

She hoped she’d stolen enough vials of the drug to do so.

~~~

Cecily woke early. She hadn’t slept well, the same old nightmares playing over and over in her head. Her heart still hammered against her chest, her hands darting to her wrists to assure herself that the chains weren’t real, that she was free of that damn lab, that she would never be forced in it again. 

She glanced over to where Hubert lay asleep next to her, brow unfurrowed for once. 

It reminded her of when they’d been in school. She couldn’t stop the pang the thought brought to her heart.

She climbed out of bed, disgust roiling in her gut, though she wasn’t sure it was for him or herself. She grabbed the purple jacket he’d gifted her the day before and pulled it on over the silk night gown he’d given her to wear.

A ridiculous garment, far too impractical and revealing, not to mention an absurdity to sleep in. Still, she didn’t bother digging through the wardrobe for anything else, even shoes, lest she wake Hubert. She didn’t even bother with the door to the sitting room, instead stepping through the shadows to the other side. It gave her a rush as she finally used a bit of the magic magic she’d been suppressing for weeks—by the Goddess, what she wouldn’t do to go and rip apart one of Arundel’s outposts, to shred her enemies with night and shadow, to simply Walk as far and as fast as she could in the span of a night and sleep under dawn’s red light. 

She reached out with her shadows to make sure there was no one in the hall before stepping through that door as well, her are footsteps silent on the plush carpet. The whole manor house was insane in its gothic opulence, any one of the baubles and trinkets lying around worth enough to sustain her comfortably for months. Even Sylvain’s house hadn’t been nearly as fancy, and his father was a Margrave. 

Of course the Kingdom had always been poor, even its noble, by comparison to the Empire. 

She slipped through the front door and into the gardens, reveling in the slight chill in the air. They were vast enough that it was easy to nearly get lost in them, to lose sight of the manor between the hedges every so often. She smiled, really smiled, at the faint breeze on her cheeks, the light scent of pine in the air, pretending, for a moment, that she was free. She noted the hemlock and oleander, the nightshade waiting for spring to bloom. She paused after the belladonna, mouth quirking upward at the foxglove. 

Her favorite.

She plucked a leaf, rolling it between her fingers. She wanted to scream, to break something. She’d been able to do next to nothing for the past few weeks, locked in a pretty room and made utterly useless. Was this what Hubert expected, her to sit quietly and read while he dressed her in silks? 

She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She just needed to be patient. If only she’d ever been good at being patient. 

She needed Yuri. She’d always been fine in the houses of the elite, as long as she was playing at servant, as long as her job was to go unnoticed. She had no idea how to be a noble wife, no idea how to be a Marquess—and she was sure Hubert would use it as an excuse to prevent her from seeing Yuri, from doing anything except getting on with bearing heirs. 

Though he hadn’t touched her last night. He hadn’t even tried.  

Did that mean he was looking for something else out of their arrangement, or simply that he was waiting for her to adjust to her new role in life? Perhaps—

“Your Grace!” Someone hissed. Cecily whipped around to find Piper rushing towards her, a pair of shoes in her hand. 

“You can’t be out here without shoes,” she said, dropping them on the ground for her to slip on, though she did so reluctantly. Piper rolled her eyes at her, though she made sure that her back was facing the house so no one could see. Cecily fought a smile at the familiar face—she looked well-cared for, her face fuller than it had been before the mission from regular, decent meals, her strawberry hair shiny and pinned prettily around her face. 

“You got everyone worked up first thing, disappearing from the Marquis’s chambers without undoing any of his wards,” she said, raising a brow pointedly. She’d seen her pull that trick enough on Finch to know what she’d done, stepped right through the wall as if it were shadow. “Figured I’d find you before Thomas did, or the Marquis. He was rather upset.”

“I’ve been locked up enough the last month and a half,” she spat, with venom Piper didn’t deserve. “I needed some fresh air.”

“I know, just—“

“Your Grace, it’s much too cold to be outside without proper clothes. If you wouldn’t mind returning, breakfast will be prepared once you’re ready. Sadie, if you wouldn’t mind helping the Marquess dress?”

“Of course, sir. After you, your Grace,” Piper said, gesturing for Cecily to head back to the house. She fought the urge to make a face, instead just nodding. Hubert was waiting in the entrance hall, anger clear in his expression, though something else simmered under the surface, something she couldn’t name before it was gone. 

“There were wards on the doors,” he hissed as she started up the stairs, Piper following behind her, even as Hubert kept pace. 

“Were there?”

“I woke to you missing without so much as a word. You didn’t even take your shoes.”

“I needed a walk.”

“Then you should have woken me.”

“Am I not allowed to walk by myself any longer, Marquis Vestra?” She asked evenly, though his jaw clenched at the title. 

“I have no objection to you walking about the property, so long as I know where you are!”

“Well I didn’t realize I needed to inform the warden. I shall make sure to do so next time, Marquis Vestra,” she said evenly. It only seemed to upset him more, something that pleased her greatly.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why, it is your title, is it not?”

He glared at her for a long moment before shaking his head and turning to Piper.

“See to it that the Marquess is dressed and presentable for a brief trip. She will need a Lady’s maid. Have you any experience —?”

“Sadie, your Grace,” Piper said quickly. “Yes sir, at my previous employer I served one of the Count’s young daughters.”

“Then I will speak to Thomas and let him know of the change in your duties. Cecily, I will see you downstairs in a half hour,” he said, the statement sounding more like a threat. Cecily watched him go, trying not to grind her teeth. She returned to Hubert’s apartments, crossing to the bed to grab one of the pillows and press it to her face to muffle her scream of frustration. Piper gave her a pitying look as she tossed it back atop the bed.

“Feel better?” she asked. Cecily just shook her head. Piper crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out an outfit—another intricate jacket, this one a light lavender, and matching dress. 

She hated that it was beautiful. 

“Come on, you’ve pissed him off enough for now. Let’s get you down for breakfast,” Piper said. She let Piper help her into the dress and let down her hair, simply clipping the magpie pin into it rather than bothering with any sort of braid like Yuri would have done.

Perhaps she knew she couldn’t handle that right now. 

She followed Piper to the small dining area, sitting opposite from Hubert at the small table. She could tell it usually held a leaf or two, that it usual sat more than just two.

Hubert hadn’t been an only child, had he? He’d never mentioned siblings at the academy, but that didn’t mean anything. He’d always been exceedingly private. 

He looked up, surveying her over another stack of reports. 

“You—you look nice.”

“Is that all I’m allowed to do now?” She asked, before she could stop herself. Hubert’s brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to reply and then stopped, shaking his head and turning back to his work. 

She turned to her plate, trying to quell the rage seething in her. She didn’t eat, merely pushed the food around enough to make it look like she had before setting down her knife and fork. 

Hubert finished his own meal, tossing his napkin down on the table before fixing her in his citrine gaze. 

“I had a carriage prepared, if you will agree to accompany me.”

She bit back her retort of not having much of a choice, instead just nodding. He stared at her for a long moment before getting up and gesturing for her to follow him. She did so, head bowed. 

They didn’t speak again even after they both had gotten into carriage and it began trundling down the road.

At least he didn’t force her on another damned horse this time.

It was better if she didn’t speak. She knew she’d say something she’d regret, something foul or something that betrayed her hand. It was better if she just keep her mouth shut and her head down. Truly, it would have been better to try and win him over, to get him comfortable enough to start confiding in her, to trust her, but that was Yuri’s schtick, she didn’t think herself capable of such subtle manipulation.

The subtlest she usually dealt in was poison. 

She wasn’t meant for a cushy, noble life—she didn’t want it. She wanted to do something worthwhile, she wanted to get back to killing the Goddess-damned Agarthans. She was built for killing, not for playing dress up and and yes-manning the architect of her enemies.

She was going to have an aneurism if she couldn’t figure out an outlet.

~~~

Cecily dropped into a chair along the side of the cobbled together war room, clutching a dishcloth filled with enchanted ice courtesy of Lark to her cheek. She pulled a yellowed paperback out of her pocket, flipping it open to where she’d last left off. She nearly always had one or two of them jammed into her pockets—most of spying was just waiting, after all, and she preferred some sort of amusement while she waited for her marks. 

She looked up as Rook sat next to her, brow raised. She pulled off the ice to show him her deeply bruised cheek, courtesy of a gauntlet to the jaw. He made a face.

“Did you get that in Gaspard?”

“Nope,” she said. She didn’t elaborate. He knew better than to ask.

In truth she’d gotten it down in Arundel, on a run Yuri had specifically told her not to go on. But then again she went on a lot of runs he disapproved of, was about to leave for another after the meeting. 

The worst part was the beating hadn’t even been from one of Arundel’s private troops or one of Hubert’s agents—then there would at least be a bit of dignity in it. No, it was a common Empire soldier that had mistaken her for a thief.

Not that she wasn’t a thief, she just hadn’t been stealing at the time. 

It had been easier to take the beating and scurry away, licking her wounds, then to chance the whole thing escalating and her outing herself by fighting back. It could have been far worse, but he’d seemed almost bored with it, as if it were a common thing, beating peasants looking to steal a crust of bread to feed their families. 

Yuri strode in, sharp eyes cataloguing the the room before they fell on her. He made a face but didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t, until after the meeting, when he’d pull her aside privately and chastise her for being so dumb. But in front of the rest—

Yuri had always known how to captivate an audience. He could wrap anyone around his finger, enamor them with a flick of his graceful wrist.

She’d always envied him in that. 

She was clumsy with people, off-putting, her temper too short and her tongue too sharp. It worked well enough for her role but there were times she wished she had his ease with people, that she had an ounce of his charisma. 

Still, she’d made being forgettable and easily ignored an invaluable skill, one that directly complemented his to command the attention of anyone he wished. 

She only half paid attention to the meeting—she already knew everything of import, was there more to watch their number than to listen to anything said. She trusted their birds, but only so far, knew how easily trust could be misplaced. Yuri called it being paranoid, she called it being aware.

After all, it could be useful, having a rat, at least for a time. And then the second they weren’t—then they’d be an example.

She hadn’t had to make an example of anyone in a very long time.

At least not of one of their birds.

She wondered if Hubert had received word her gift yet, of the supply line that had supposed to be feeding into Gideon that she’d destroyed, along with the nest she'd cleaned out, wondered if he’d been horrified—if he could be horrified. She hoped there was still a little part of him that felt fear, though she wasn’t so sure he was capable of that. 

She hated the part of her that ached at the thought, that remembered all the times he’d been very nearly sweet to her, that remembered the warmth the sight of him used to fill her chest with. She hated the part of her that had always believed him better than he was, that had been blind to the reality of his devotion to Edelgard. 

Of course, sometimes she wished to be blind again, to spend a few moments not searching for ulterior motives, for betrayal. She wanted to feel as though she could confide in her friends without weighing how they could turn that information against her, wished she could believe they were as good as their intentions without digging for their motives, wished she didn’t have to have a dossier on each of absolute scorched earth destruction should they decide to turn on her or Yuri. 

After all, everyone had a weak spot. 

She hung back as the meeting concluded, taking another look at the makeshift troop markers across the map, the concentrations in Bergliez and Belinus. Yuri lingered around the map, waiting for the last person to leave and shut the door before turning to glare at her.

“Let me see,” he said, striding over to pull the ice from her hand. He swore as he saw the bruising. “You’re a damn fool! I told you to stay out of Arundel. I should let you suffer this and maybe you’ll learn to listen.”

Despite his harsh words he gently cupped his hand across her cheek, the familiar warmth of his healing magic seeping into her skin. 

“Where else?” He asked, voice clipped. She hesitated a moment before hiking up her shirt to show him the deep violet bruises across her ribs from being kicked a dozen times.

“Goddess—when did this happen, Magpie?”

She blew out a breath as he healed the worst of them. “Two, three days ago.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re a moron.”

“You like to remind me.”

Yuri tugged her shirt back into place, pulling her into a hug. Neither one of them said anything for a really long time. She held on, too tight as always, the physical affection a relief. She didn’t want to admit how much this war was killing her, wouldn’t.

He knew, though. She knew that he did, knew that was why he harped and harped and harped on her. 

Sometimes she thought if he hadn’t she’d been long dead—or worse. 

“Come on. I just picked up some spices from the market, we can eat in. What are you reading?” he asked, tugging the paperback out of her pocket. She flushed, making to swipe it back but Yuri held it out of reach.

“Give it back.”

“Not until I see why you’re so keen to keep it away from me. Oooooh—are you reading dirty romance novels now? I’m almost proud.”

“Piss off, it’s not even really dirty, Lorenz recommended it.”

“You’re taking smutty book recommendations from Lorenz?” He asked incredulously, face alight with glee. Cecily rolled her eyes.

“He’s got good taste in books.”

“Lorenz, the same Lorenz you pushed in the pond for calling you common and low-bred?”

She just shrugged. “He’s not bad when he stops spouting off about noble this and noble that. And Gloucester’s run well, way better than Rowe was, or Enbarr. Nobody’s poor like we were—like they don’t have money but they’re not starving and desperate. As annoying as it is to listen to, he actually does follow through on all that horse shit about noble duty to their people.”

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“You and Lorenz are actually friends, aren’t you?”

“What—fuck off.”

“You’re friends with the biggest noble brat of the lot.”

“We’re not—we’re friendly. There’s a difference.”

“So do you and Claude have a little book club too?”

“Actually, yeah, we swap illegal books on poisons. He found a really good one on toxic fungi.”

“Goddess, you’re a freak.”

“Freak or not, it’s useful.”

“You mean, unlike your romance novels.”

“They pass the time. Not all of us have a harem of lovers to call on whenever we’re bored.”

“You could always start with one and work up to it.”

“I could also shoot myself though the foot with a crossbow bolt. Doesn’t mean I should.”

“You’re always so dramatic.”

“Wonder where I picked that up.”

“I’m guessing from someone rakishly handsome and clever beyond measure.”

“Not ringing a bell,” she said, snatching her book back. Yuri snorted, clearly proud of himself for getting under her skin. 

They didn’t say anything as they left the room, or as they slipped down through the grate in the basement that gave them access to the tunnels throughout most of the city. Cecily wouldn’t admit it, but she found them comforting, no matter how rank they were. They reminded her of Abyss.

Of home.

~~~

Hubert watched her face as she stepped out of the carriage. He could still feel the rage roiling off of her, see it in the stiff set of her shoulders, in the way she dug her nails into her palms. Still, he hoped this would prove his intentions, if only a little. 

He hadn’t had the time or the manpower to create anything luxurious or beautiful, but the smattering of new houses on the outskirts of the village were well-built, each having a small plot of land for a garden and a washing line. 

She just stared for a long time, frozen to the cobbled road. He’d begun to worry that it hadn’t been enough, that he was going to finally experience the fullness of her wrath for the forced marriage, when a little boy darted out of one of the houses, black-haired and barefoot. He couldn’t have been more than six or seven, with a tiny button nose and wide, deep blue eyes. She turned at the sound of pattering feet, her face breaking into the first genuine smile he’d seen on it in nearly four years.

“Cece!” He cried as he leapt at her, arms wide. She stooped and caught him round the middle, spinning him in a circle before settling him on her hip with surprising ease.

“Zhora! You’ve gotta so big.”

“Where have you been? They’re giving out houses here! There might be one left.”

“Oh, are they? Did you get one?”

“Oh yes! And we have an apple tree! Lark said we’ll have as many as we can eat in the fall.”

“You should make sure you share—“

“I know. I will, I promise,” he said, wiggling to be put down. He grabbed her hand as soon as his feet touched the ground, already tugging her towards his house when he spotted Hubert and froze. 

“Who’s he? He looks scary,” he whispered, too loud. Cecily glanced back at him, her expression somehow softer, but still unreadable.

“That is my husband.”

“Is that why you look so fancy?”

“Yes.”

Zhora thought for a moment. “I should get a husband. I like your jacket.” 

She laughed at that, really laughed, the sound near musical to his ears. He watched the little boy tug her towards his house, the aforementioned apple tree out front. 

He hadn’t quite understood her insistence that he take in the remainder of Abyss’s residents when she’d first asked, thought it perhaps an overcomplicated condition meant to vex him. 

It was hard to hold that belief seeing her with the little boy, watching more and more people come out of their houses to greet her, to fawn over her. He got the impression that she hadn’t seen many of them for several months.

He hung back, watching the little reunion, watching the children tug at her and jockey for attention, watching the adults trip over each other to update her on their lives.  There had been over two dozen he’d had Vharen track down and relocate, ranging from scarcely five to well into their seventies. How had she and Yuri kept them all safe, and alive in the midst of a war? Neither one of them had ever been flush with coin, but not a single one of the former residents had looked nearly as starved as Cecily had when she arrived. Their clothes had been patched, but clean and warm and none were sick, or injured, better cared for by far than when it had been left to the Church. 

He understood, now, the sacrifice of her added clause, and he hated it, hated it for the softness it betrayed. 

Still, if it kept her out of Arundel’s clutches, it would be worth it, worth it a thousand times over. 

Next

[anti-cyra]

fandom series masterlist

— quick disclaimer! most of my bots are new / untested or beta-run so there may be some bugs and kinks (and not the good kind) along the way especially when it comes to fandom bots and the accuracy of lore and stuff. c.ai's knowledge isn't always 100% so please keep that in mind when interacting with any of these bots, thank you~

2025 EDIT: Some of these bots may have been deleted off of c.ai by the system, which I have no control over :( Bots will be moved to Janitor AI instead.

Dan Heng (Imbibitor Lunae) | Dan Heng

Dan Feng and Dan Heng (AU)

Gepard Landau | Luka

Blade | Jing Yuan | Luocha

Argenti | Dr. Ratio | Sunday

Aventurine | Aventurine

Phainon | Phainon | Mydei

ฅ^._.^ฅ Future Plans: Anaxa, more Phainon

Other Gacha Games (Genshin, Wuwa, Zenless Zone Zero, etc.)

Scar (Wuthering Waves)

Wise (Zenless Zone Zero)

ฅ^._.^ฅ Future Plans: Kaveh (Genshin Impact)

Ashe Ubert | Yuri Leclerc | Claude von Riegan

ฅ^._.^ฅ Future Plans: Felix Fraldarius, Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Blaiddyd, Felix & Sylvain, Jeritza von Hrym

Samatoki Aohitsugi | Doppo Kannonzaka

Rosho Tsutsujimori | Ramuda Amemura

Ichiro Yamada | Jiro Yamada

ฅ^._.^ฅ Future Plans: Jakurai Jinguuji, Hifumi Izanami, Gentaro Yumeno

Jamil Viper | Leona Kingscholar

ฅ^._.^ฅ Future Plans: Jade Leech

Yuki Sohma| Kyo Sohma | Shigure Sohma

Momiji Sohma | Hatsuharu Sohma

Ayame Sohma | Hatori Sohma

Ritsu Sohma | Kureno Sohma

haha i wonder who's my favourite character...

Tsukishima Kei (Project Partner)

Tsukishima Kei (Best Friends)

Tsukishima Kei (Crushing)

Request Fills for bots that still fall under fandoms i guess

Ritsu Sakuma (Ensemble Stars)

Saburo Yamada (Hypnosis Mic)

[vanillinwrites]

BLOG GUIDE

Hia, I’m citrus, 23, she/her. This is my little archive for things I write for various fandoms, mostly character x reader, but some character x character as well. I write mostly yandere stuff these days, but i sometimes try my hand at non yan stuff too, feel free to request either.

---------------

Writing styles:

imagines

Drabbles

Headcanons 

---------------

Fandoms: 

Fire Emblem Three Houses! (All of the students, Seteth, Flayn, Rhea, Jeritza) 

DDLC / Doki Doki Literature Club! (monika, sayori, yuri, natuski) 

HXH / Hunter x Hunter! (the phantom troupe mostly) 

Mobile Suit Gundam 0079 / Origin (i’ll write for any character!)

If you want someone from one of these fandoms who isn't on the list, feel free to ask anyways! I might have forgotten them! The worst I can say is no!

Expect more fandoms to be added over time!

--- 

Masterlist:

Temporarily unavailable! Links broke when I changed my url

---

Any character under 18 will be aged up! Characters under 15 can only be requested platonically!

---

Request guidelines: 

Please specify- 

Reader’s gender (if unspecified, i will default to female reader) 

The writing style you would prefer (drabbles, headcanons, etc) 

The character(s) you’d like ((i will do up to four characters in one ask)) 

Any other specific requests you’d like, such as; reader’s traits, the scenario you had in mind, a poly ship, etc! 

If any of these aren’t specified, i’ll write it however it comes to mind

---------------

Will write: 

Character x reader 

Any gender reader ( if not specified, i will default to female reader )

Specific traits ( such as weight, height, hair color, etc. including mental health!) 

Monogamous or polyamorous 

Romantic or platonic 

Smut // Angst // Fluff

Omegaverse 

Yandere 

---------------

Won't write: 

Character x character (i’m picky about ships, and generally have low motivation for writing character x character fics. I may sometimes post character x character fics, but i don't take requests for them) 

Any romantic/sexual content for underage characters 

Pregnancy

Daddy kink 

Scat 

--- I reserve the right to turn down any request, but I will answer why I turned it down! Thank you for reading! Please enjoy your stay!

[whateverthese2havetournament]

2024 Roster Announcement

Alright, let's get this show on the road.

You all gave me plenty to work with, and though time has passed, I haven't forgotten. I have utilized what I believe to be an unbiased system of sorting relevant entries to the top, and I have a list of 32 and 16 for both the "Men's Division" and "Women's Division".

The Men's Division, in no particular order:

Archie and Maxie, Pokemon

Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, Looney Tunes

Professor Pierre Aronnax and Captain Nemo, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

Sicard and Emmanilain, Final Fantasy XIV

Alber Wesker and Chris Redfield, Resident Evil

Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid, Criminal Minds

Suguru Geto and Satorou Gojo, Jujutsu Kaisen

Luffy and Zoro, One Piece

Kotetsu T. "Wild Tiger" Kaburagi and Barnaby "Bunny" Brooks Jr., Tiger and Bunny

Yoichi & Kudou, My Hero Academia

Elim Garak and Julian Bashir, Star Trek

Dale Cooper and Harry S. Truman, Twin Peaks

Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha

Composer and Orpheus, Identity V

Eddie Brock and his Symbiote, Venom

Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang, Link Click

Keith and Lance, Voltron

Optimus Prime and Megatron, Transformers

Newt Geiszler and Hermann Gottleib, Pacific Rim

Kim Dokja & Yoo Joonghyuk, Omniscient Reader

Sam and Max

Officer Bailey and That Other Guard, Ghost Trick

Steven Stone and Wallace, Pokemon

Medic and Heavy, Team Fortress 2

Basil and Sunny, OMORI

Ike and Soren, Fire Emblem Path of Radiance

Professor X and Magneto, X-Men

Mercutio and Benvolio, Shakespeare

Stanley and the Narrator, The Stanley Parable

Junkrat and Roadhog, Overwatch

Merlin and Arthur, Merlin

Jessie and James, Pokemon

And the Women's

Madoka Kaname and Akemi Homura, Madoka Magica

Azula, Mai and Ty Lee, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Alice 'Daisy' Tonner and Basira Hussain, The Magnus Archives

Sable Ward and Mikaela Reid, Dead by Daylight

Mina Harker née Murray and Lucy Westenra, Dracula

Xena and Gabrielle, Xena: Warrior Princess

Falin Touden and Marcille Donato, Delicious in Dungeon

Emma Swan and Regina Mills, Once Upon a Time

Ruby Rose and Penny Polendina, RWBY

Milly Thompson and Meryl Stryfe, Trigun

Daphne Blake and Velma Dinkley, Scooby Doo

Vriska Serket and Terezi Pyrope, Homestuck

Kimura Seiko and Andoh Ruruka, Danganronpa 3

Lucia and Elincia, Fire Emblem Path of Radiance

Yuri and Natuski, Doki Doki Literature Club

Lyn and Florina, Fire Emblem the Blazing Blade

Wowie, what an all-star cast! Videogames, comics, movies, anime, cartoons, classic literature, and more.

So, I'm going to aim to get the ball rolling, let's say October 14th. I'll start with Men's Round 1, then the following week do Women's Round 1, and so on. I will post the actual brackets a bit closer to that date.

In the meantime! If anyone would like to submit any propaganda, images, complaints, objections, or what have you, the ask box will remain open. I know last time had a pretty rocky start, but I am wise for the experience, and I think this time 'round will be even better.

[vilhelios]

I'VE GOT THE STRANGEST FEELING / THIS ISN'T OUR FIRST TIME AROUND.

rules . . . !

-; the obvious: don't steal/claim my work as your own/feed it into ai. don't transform it into other forms of media (such as a bound book (although my work is too short for that, thankfully), video, etc.) without my knowledge either, if not for personal use!

-; this is a sfw blog! i mainly write x readers of the fluff and angst variety, and i don't write smut because i'm not quite comfortable with writing it yet, so the most we are getting in fics is suggestive content.

-; although i am not easily triggered by many things and can handle a lot of content, if i find something in a request uncomfortable, i will let you know! there are obvious topics that i absolutely will not write for, and i will not write anything that promotes any type of bigotry.

-; the reader is meant to be gender neutral in all of my work (although they might be implied to be fem-aligned depending on the media i am writing for, such as when a fic is based off an otome game). tell me if i accidentally slip up so i can edit it asap!

-; please understand that i am currently a university student on a pretty demanding course content-wise, so answering your asks/requests might take a while!

i will write for . . . !

-; TEARS OF THEMIS — vyn richter , artem wing

-; GENSHIN IMPACT — kaeya alberich , diluc ragnvindr , zhongli , tartaglia , alhaitham , wriothesley , neuvillette , ganyu

-; LOVE & DEEPSPACE — rafayel , xavier , zayne

-; FIRE EMBLEM 3H — claude von riegan , byleth eisner , dimitri alexandre blaiddyd , hubert von vestra , yuri leclerc , marianne von edmund

-; PERSONA 5 — akira kurusu / ren amamiya , ryuji sakamoto , ann takamaki

-; OBEY ME ! — lucifer , simeon

thanks for going through the rules ! ໒・ﻌ・७

send me mail ( check status first ! ) | masterlist

( header image is from vyn's second anniversary card ! )

[nabateaprodigy]

Masterlist

Finally got around to making this! Here's a collection of my writing.

Where are you y/n? (Rhea x GN!Reader)

By Your Side (M!Alear x Vander)

Heartache (M!Byleth x Seteth)

Fódlan Sibling Headcannons (Dimitri, Felix, Constance, Linhardt, Caspar, and Yuri)

A King and his Summoner (Dimitri x GN!Reader)

A Picnic and Flowers (Clanne x Citrinne)

Starlight Sky (Rhea x F!Byleth)

Byleth and Shez Comfort Headcannons (M!Shez and M!Byleth x GN!Reader)

Domestic Life Headcanons (M!Shez and Claude x GN!Reader)

Cuddle Time! (Arval, M!Shez, and M!Byleth x Fem!Reader)

The Prince and His Maiden of Death (Dimitri x Fem!Reader)

Alcryst, M!Alear, and Gregory Headcannons. (Alcyst, M!Alear, and Gregory x Fem!Reader)

I'm Not Jealous! (Hortensia x Clanne)

Hey! That Dance Is With Me! (Ferdinand, Caspar, and Dorothea x GN!Reader)

A Friendship of Fire and Ice (Natsu x Male!Reader)

Papa Where do Babies Come From? (Juvia x Male!Reader)

My Lovely Rain Woman (Juvia x Male!Reader)

Can't Look Back (Juvia x Gray)

Angelic Care (Angel x Male!Reader)

Hidden Power (Mirajane x GN!Reader)

Love At First Drink? (Gray x Male!Reader)

Uninvited Guests (Gray x Fem!Reader)

Rude Awakening (Wendy x Male!Reader)

Musical Mishap (Team Natsu x Fem!Reader)

Talk To Me (Juvia x Male!Reader)

I Can't Lose you to (Gray x Fem!Reader)

Snakes Curse (Wendy x Male!Reader)

First Word (Juvia x Male!Reader)

Rain, Rain Go Away and Come Back Another Day (Gray x Male!Reader)

Overflow (Gray and Lucy x Male!Reader)

Dear Little Brother (Greige x Fem!Reader)

Moving On (Gray and Juvia x Male!Reader)

Vs Y/N! (Omori, Kel, Hero, and Aubrey x GN!Reader)

Ice Skating Mania (Omori, Hero, Kel, Aubrey, and Basil x Male!Reader)

Goodbye...Omori (Omori x GN!Reader)

Hopeful Maid (Nagito x Mahiru)

Rantaro and Kokichi Headcannons (Kokichi and Rantaro x GN!Reader)

Lady of Despair (Junko x Fem!Reader)

Music and Stars (Shuichi, Kokichi, K1-B0, and Rantaro x GN!Reader)

Kokichi and Nagito With a Sensitive S/O (Kokichi and Nagito x GN!Reader)

Please Don't Turn Me Into a Marketable Plushy! (Mukuro, Junko, Komaru, and Sonia x GN!Reader)

Pain In His Eyes (Fuyuhiko, Nagito, Kazuichi, and Leon x GN!Reader)

Attention (Kokichi x GN!Reader)

Playful Tendencies (Kokichi x GN!Reader)

A Mountain of Plushies (Nagito, Fuyuhiko, Kazuichi, and Hajime x Male!Reader)

Hopefully Compassion (Nagito x Fem!Reader)

Cheerleader Star (Leon x Gn!Reader)

Deserved to be Loved (Mahiru x Male!Reader)

DR1 and DR2 Cuddling Headcannons (Makoto, Chihiro, Hajime, and Nagito x AFAB!Reader)

Love of History (Kyoko, Mukuro, Ibuki and Kirumi x GN!Reader)

Life or Death (Kyoko and Mukuro x Male!Reader.)

Fire Emblem games i write for and character x character pairings

If i write for platonic x reader.

If I write for Naruto

[ficsforgaza]

˗ˏˋ CREATOR MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗

You may use our tags #Sponsor a WIP and #Open Requests to show you all creators who have WIPs to sponsor or who are taking requests!

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[glowingbadger]

Which of the Three Houses guys will watch their beloved go off on an enemy and have the reaction of "Well mark me down as scared AND horny", do you think?

Ahh, see my dear Friend Anon, this is a nuanced spectrum- but I'll do my best to break it down as I see it:

Scared and Horny:

Claude - has enough common sense to be scared, but definitely hot-blooded enough to be horny about it. A beautiful balance, frankly, though he may tease you about how wild you were.

Raphael - soooo close to qualifying for the "just horny" category, but he is a sweet boy and still wants to check to be sure you're alright (mentally, emotionally, physically) after the battle.

Ignatz - soooo close to qualifying for the "just scared" category lmao. However, as you all know, I see our boy Ignatz as very repressed and very kinky, and seeing you be so powerful and passionate definitely stirs some part of him.

Ferdinand - practically the poster-boy for "scared and horny" tbh; he feels sheepish about it, but he just can't help how your strength and force of will arouse him.

Seteth - also strangely close to the "just horny" category, not that he wants to admit it; seeing you like this really awakens something primal in him from far in his past. Still, his concern for you is ever-present and ultimately pushes aside how entrancing you look conquering your foes so thoroughly.

Sylvain - I almost don't know how to elaborate on this one because, I mean, of course, right? Of course Sylvain is worried, but also just burning inside watching you flushed in the face, damp with sweat, muscles tight, hair wild.......

Just Scared:

Lorenz - oscillating wildly between worried for you and worried for every person around you. Definitely impressed, don't get me wrong- he appreciates battle prowess. But if you're really going berserk, he's worried.

Dedue - while he's likely right there beside you in the fight, he worries about seeing you get particularly aggressive. He's seen what bloodlust has done to the other most valued person in his life, and never wants to see you go too far down that path.

Ashe - it's not as though he can't stomach violence, he just feels that there's a certain responsibility and necessity for rules of engagement when it comes to combat, hence his proclivity for chivalry. Seeing you completely lose yourself worries him, and he'll want to be with you and hold you and make sure you're okay as soon as he can.

Just Horny:

Hubert - I feel like this is more or less self explanatory lmao. Though he does still hope you'll be rational and not do anything unnecessarily risky while eviscerating your foes.

Caspar - again, an obvious choice. Honestly, I think Caspar wants to fuck after just about every battle you two come back from, provided neither of you is hurt too badly.

Jeritza - this is the most obvious one so far lol. Though, when he's more 'himself,' he does silently worry about you sharing in his bloodshed and provoking the Death Knight part of him.

Felix - honestly, it's probably even fiercer than Hubert or Caspar; the lust he feels for you in the heat of battle is both primal and nearly spiritual. This is about his whole life philosophy, after all. After a particularly tough and gruesome fight, he wants nothing more than to absolutely ravage you (and might need to be talked down if he has wounds to attend to first)

Outliers:

Linhardt - ideally, he is not present, as the sight of you "going off" on an enemy is likely to involve waaaaay more blood than he's comfy with. He'll definitely tend to you afterward, and wryly scold you for going overboard (secretly, he was super worried when he heard from your comrades of how ferocious you were out there)

Dimitri - he's in different categories depending on where he's at in his arc tbh. Feral Dimitri is obviously just horny about you diving into the bloodshed with him, while "redeemed" Dimitri has some measure of restraint about it

Yuri - it's more like "amused/impressed and horny," tbh. Though he never looses his head about it- he's still keeping a close eye on you to make sure nothing goes awry. But he won't deny that he enjoys watching, nonetheless.

[frickingnerd]

yandere yuri leclerc

pairing: yuri leclerc x gn!reader

tags: overprotective yandere, murderous intent, manipulation

yuri is such a protective yandere! this man would not allow anyone to lay a hand on you or even look at you the wrong way!

he's overprotective even, tending to shelter you a little too much, just so nobody harms you or flirts with you!

and he has to be overprotective! there are so many people after him, due to being the lord of the underground, so he always keeps two eyes out for you!

due to this status, yuri doesn't hesitate to take drastic measures to keep you safe! he has killed a ton of people already, what are a few more now?

whether it's people who would harm you or romantic rivals, yuri is more than willing to kill them! though he doesn't want you to know about that…

he can be quite a bit manipulative, starting to gaslight you, as soon as you suspect that he might've done something wrong

he'd even go as far as subtly train you! he'll make you repeat that you love him and would never leave him, all so that you'll internalize it!

[trytoimaginefireemblem]

Oneshot: Yuri Meeting a Ninja in Abyss

Request: Hello! I have an request; A one shot about Yuri Leclerc having an encounter with a student who is a shinobi/Ninja in the Abyss.

Requested by Anonymous

Word Count: 302

A.N- Sorry, I didn’t really add the student part. I hope you still like it!

When you first arrived in Abyss, Yuri was suspicious of you. You were a highly skilled ninja that randomly showed up in Abyss. Nobody knew who you were, and you never said anything about where you came from. Yuri was especially suspicious of how well you were able to sneak around and all of the information you could be hearing. It took him a while to get used to your quiet presence, but even though you became a familiar face around Abyss, he wanted to know more about you. Yuri knew that you wouldn't just reveal all of your secrets to him. Everyone in Abyss had secrets. You were also a ninja, skilled in stealth and secrecy. He knew it would be challenging to learn about you. Yuri decided to try and spy on you. He went through your belongings and found nothing suspicious. As he was leaving, he ran into you. Yuri was internally panicking. He thought you had seen him going through your things. His fear was confirmed, "If you wanted to know something, you could have asked." With that, he watched you walk away. He was relieved that you didn't seem angry. Your reaction, however, did make him even more curious. For a few days, Yuri didn't see you around. He thought it was odd since he usually saw you every day. A week later, he finally saw you again. He wasn't sure why but he felt relieved that nothing terrible had happened to you. Seeing you around became a daily occurrence again. It became routine that you would disappear for a while, and Yuri would wait for your return. He hadn't learned anything about you, but he realized that he didn't need to know everything about someone in order for them to be a part of his life.

[mt-musings]

Inherit the Night - 16

Cecily awoke slowly, her head pounding. She’d rarely ever got hungover in the past—but then again she was usually drinking swill and was smart enough to at least attempt to hydrate. Last night she hadn’t bothered, her only objective to black out as quickly and as absolutely as possible. 

She hesitated before mustering the courage to open her eyes, to turn over to the other side of the bed—it wasn’t that she was uncomfortable with the idea of sharing one. Goddess knew she’d curled up next to Yuri enough nights while holed up in their shitty little hideouts, especially while in Enbarr. 

It was the idea of sharing a marriage bed and whatever might have happened while she’d knocked herself out with drink. 

It was sharing a bed with Hubert.

Her blood still boiled at the mere thought of his name, at the audacity of his latest play—of course he’d never been one to shy away from outlandish schemes at the Academy, his perhaps a bit more subtle than the other noble brats. She understood, could even appreciate the ploy, the clever move to secure the largest unaffiliated spy ring in the midst of this asinine war—could even appreciate the fine tactical move that it was. Hell, she’d have probably made the move sooner than he had, had she been in his position. 

What she couldn’t abide was his insistence that the pact be sealed with their marriage. That it couldn’t be a simple hostage exchange—her for Yuri. There was no benefit to Hubert—she was a commoner of no name, a criminal, and had hardly a handful of silver to her name. Of course there was the Imperial line, that it was the unification of noble and commoner, that it was a tangible testament to Edelgard’s commitment to dismantle the current system that relied on hereditary titles and crests. 

It would have held more weight if it hadn’t been for her blood. 

Despite what she’d prefer, Hubert wasn’t an idiot. They’d spent nearly a year at the Officer’s Academy together, working and fighting in close quarters. She knew there had been moments she had slipped up, knew there where moments in front of Hubert in particular where he’d witnessed a bought of magic or two he shouldn’t have. 

And surely Lord Arundel had filled him in on what he didn’t know.

The marriage clause, then, had to be in place to take use of her blood, to make up for House Vestra’s lack of a crest. 

Whatever Edelgard’s intent in dismantling the old system, there was not denying that it was massively disadvantageous for a noble house to be in complete lack of a crest.

She remembered Margrave Gautier’s callousness in ensuring his heir possessed one, his frigid pragmatism that had left her scarred, hunted, and motherless in the first place. She understood the tactical necessity now, but it didn’t mean she loathed him any less, that she agreed with any of his choices. 

She didn’t know what she had expected to find on the other side of the bed—perhaps Hubert asleep in a set of unnaturally starched night clothes, perhaps him long awake and leering at her. 

She hadn’t expected the other side of the bed to be empty, with no sign that it had been touched. 

She sat up, noting the thick blanket that had been tucked around her—not wool, for the fiber was too fine, too soft. She didn’t have a word for it. Yuri, though, would know if she asked him. He always knew the finest of everything, even if he lived in the same dank tunnels and rundown safe houses she did. 

Yuri. Her heart sank at the thought of his familiar face, his constant flurry of barbs and quips, of the security of his presence. How long would he be allowed to remain at the palace? What would he be forced to do, knowing she had to remain firmly in the Empire’s clutches? That the lives and livelihoods of the remaining denizens of Abyss lay firmly on their ability to keep Hubert and Edelgard happy?

Fucking hell, she was stupid.

She tossed off the blanket, suddenly disgusted by the luxury of it.  It was simply another lovely furnishing to disguise the fact that she was caged, that they’d made such a stupendous tactical blunder.

She’d told Yuri that she should have made the run into Enbarr, that it made the most sense. At least if she’d been outnumbered and cornered by Empire agents, she had more than a hope of tearing through them, of escaping amidst the blood and shattered bone left in the wake of her gift. Yuri was an exceptional fighter and a halfway decent mage but she—

She was a monster.

“Good morning.”

She whipped around at the sound of the familiar voice. Hubert stood in the half-opened door, still in the hopelessly stuffy attire of the night before. Her own lay in a heap on the floor, shed at the first available moment, more than a few of the buttons popped off in the process of its removal. She was suddenly very aware that she wore only the slip from underneath, that the silk was whisper thin and bore more of her body than she’d ever shown at the Academy, or indeed anywhere. 

She pulled the blanket back up around her, all the way to her chin, and narrowed her eyes.

He just stared at her a moment before shaking his head, heaving out a sigh as he crossed without preamble to the wardrobe. She watched him root around for a bit before pulling out mauve riding dress and a pair of thick, practical leggings. He lay both out on the other side of the bed before returning to fetch a matching hat, jacket, riding boots, and set of fine, kidskin gloves. 

“We are leaving for the manor in an hour. Make yourself presentable,” he said stiffly, eyes flicking over her mussed hair, the blanket she’d lowered enough to show the thin straps of her shift. 

The scars that crisscrossed the skin of her chest.

He turned, then, to grab his own clothes, nearly as stiff and pompous as his formalwear the night before, before crossing back to the door and shutting it with a distinct click. 

She swore and dropped the blanket, falling back on the mattress and near-mountain of goose-feather pillows. She’d spent nearly all her life using an old bundle of clothes, if she was lucky enough to have spares, and here he was with six of the softest, fullest pillows she’d ever seen.  

And yet she’d still trade them and everything else in the opulent room for the perpetually rat-infested safe house outside Rowe in an instant if it meant she and Yuri were free of this Goddess-forsaken contract. 

She cursed again, vilely enough that it would have been a fifty-fifty shot whether Yuri would have told her off or laughed. 

It hurt, desperately, to think about him. To think of being unable to see him any longer, at least without Hubert’s whim.

She lay there a long while, staring up at the dark velvet of the canopy, weighing whether or not it was worth ignoring Hubert. On one hand it would please her greatly to annoy him, even more so to make him irate. On the other—he held tremendous power over her, over Yuri, and most importantly over the Abyssians he’d seen settled, as per their agreement. 

She at least still knew how to wring every advantage out of a bad contract. 

She dressed quickly, trying to ignore the softness of the fabrics, the fine, detailed embroidery of roses along the neck and sleeves. Long ago she would have admired such a garment, as a child would have pulled it from the laundry to run her fingers along its threads until the head laundress chided her to get back to work. 

She slipped on the riding boots, stowing the gloves in the left one to make up for the outfit’s irritating lack of pockets and crossed to the adjacent bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror, at the tangled pallor of her hair, at the silver-white scars that carved across her right cheek. She avoided her own gaze, not wanted to see the shadows under her mismatched eyes, one deep and violet, the other a shock of blue-white.  

The color that had ruined her entire life. 

She raked a brush through her hair, not caring if it ripped strands out at the roots, and braided it back, only pausing when she realized she didn’t have her usual ribbon. 

It had been a lovely, dusty purple color, made from real silk—a present from Yuri when she’d turned thirteen. No matter how it had faded or begun to fray she’d always fixed it, always treasured it.

She didn’t even know where it was now.

The handmaidens hadn’t allowed her to take it with her to the ceremony, hadn’t let her weave it through her hair, through the elaborate braids they’d pinned around her head like a crown. They insisted it was dirty and worn and would look out of place next to the glittering, beaded dress they’d buttoned her into. 

She didn’t bother looking for a substitute, instead just throwing the unsecured end of her braid over her shoulder. It would slowly unravel, a small annoyance to inflict on Hubert and his constant sense of propriety. She picked up the hairpin Yuri had given her and slipped it into her hair, glad, at least, to have some small fragment of home. She crossed to the bedroom door, ignoring the hat he’d left on the bed—it was a small, impractical thing anyway, hardly large enough to cover the crown of her head—a purely vain accessory without any practical purpose. 

Hubert was already ready in the drawing room, reclining on the sofa as he read through a stack of reports, his hair immaculately styled, the buttons of his jacket shining. She didn’t say anything as he looked up, as his eyes traced her form, lingering on her bare head, on the white of her hair that was already unraveling from its braid. 

“Was the hat not to your liking?”

She stared at him a moment, formulating her response. She decided to play it safe and simply shook her head, dropping her eyes to the carpet. 

“A shame, I shall take note.”

She couldn’t help the furrowing of her brows at his comment, the momentary flick up of her eyes to catalogue his expression—he didn’t appear angry or even perturbed, but lost in thought. She dropped her gaze once more as he stood and dug into one of his pockets, pockets she eyed with envy, and pulled out a small, folded bundle of faded purple silk.

“I thought it perhaps sentimental to you. I seem to remember it being the same one you wore at the Academy.”

She stared at him then, really stared, as he held the ribbon out for her to take. She’d always known Hubert to be observant, to be calculating and patient. She hadn’t thought he’d catalogued such trivial details, never mind remembered them nearly four years later. 

“Was I mistaken?”

“No,” she said quickly, taking the ribbon from him before he could rescind his generosity, “Thank you.”

Something flickered across his face at those words, but it was gone before she could put a name to it, his face schooled back into his usual neutrality. She pretended she hadn’t noticed, instead focusing on tying back her hair as he packed up his reports.

“Were the gloves also not to your liking?”

“The—oh!” She stooped and pulled the pair from where she’d tucked them in the calf of her boot. “I—I didn’t have a pocket to put them in. They’re for riding, right?”

She’d seen the noble students wear similar ones out in the pastures with their mounts. She’d never bothered with anything of the like, wouldn’t have even if they weren’t more expensive than ninety percent of what she owned combined. Her hands were already calloused and scarred, there would be no point in protecting such course implements. 

Hubert just nodded and strode towards the door without another word. 

She followed a few paces behind, taking note of the route and the other doors, of what the servants wore and how they acted, whether they came to a halt and bowed their heads or scurried away as fast and silently as they were able. She noted the bolts used to secure the windows, the width of the sills, whether they looked out over gardens or faced rows of other identical windows full of watchful eyes. 

It was like second nature and she tucked it all in the back of her mind for the right occasion. Nine left turns, four rights, and three flights of stairs to the stables. Fourteen posted guards, five on rotation spotted in an eight minute window. It’d be nearly impossible to slip away unseen.

Nearly.

She tucked it all in the back of her head as a stablehand brought out a single, enormous black horse, already saddled and ready for a journey. She took a step back instinctually as the horse turned its snout in her direction and huffed. Horses never liked her—most animals didn’t. They could always tell she wasn’t quite as human as she should be, could smell the vestiges of darkness on her. 

It didn’t help that she didn’t much care for them either, not after she’d been thrown off at the Academy in the midst of a disastrous lesson. It was faster, anyway for her to Walk, to slip between the shadows and forgo the practice entirely. 

Hubert didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps he didn’t care. He lifted her up and into the saddle by the waist without so much as a word, even after she stiffened under his touch. She doubted he would heed her complaints, even if she bothered to voice them. There would be no way she’d be able to get him to agree to walk to wherever it was he was dragging her.

Instead she tried to focus on calming her breathing, eyeing the horse with distrust. The last thing she wanted was to end up below a pair of hooves again. Her ribs practically ached at the mere thought.

“There you are! I did tell you they’d try and sneak off without saying goodbye!”

She craned her neck to see a familiar mane of ginger hair, followed by half of the Black Eagles.  Ferdinand beamed at the pair of them, along with Dorothea and Caspar, Petra and Linhart bringing up the rear. She couldn’t help but crane to see behind them, hoping to see a flash of lilac hair, but Yuri was nowhere amongst the group, nor was Lorenz or Ignatz.

She ducked her face to hide her disappointment.

She could almost feel Hubert’s mood sour next to her, something that was sure to make the however-long ride to ‘the manor’ all the more uncomfortable. She did her best to give the lot of them a warm, convincing smile. She didn’t know how many of them knew about the contract, about Yuri and the Abyssians. It was better, then, to play it safe until she had more intel. 

“What on earth are you doing here?” Hubert asked, glowering at Ferdinand in particular. 

“What does it look like? We’re here to give you a proper send off!”

“That’s hardly necessary.”

“Ferdinand is saying it is a Fodlan custom to throw grain at the newly married couple,” Petra said, raising a small satchel with a smile. 

“Not grain, it has to be rice,” Caspar said, peering into her bag and making a face. 

“Why is it needing to be rice?”

“I dunno, it’s just what you throw.”

“It’s supposed to bring prosperity and many children,” Linhart said, sounding like they had just dragged him out of bed. Knowing Linhart it couldn’t be too far from the truth. 

Dorothea darted forward, beaming. “You look absolutely amazing! Oh, look at the little roses! Ferdie, isn’t it just darling? You have to tell me where you found it!”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure. It was a gift.”

“Hubie! Who would have thought you had such impeccable taste!”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. Now, we really must be off,” Hubert said bruskly, mounting the horse behind her without further preamble.

“Don’t be like that, Hubert! We simply wanted to wish you both well!” Ferdinand said, agilely stepping directly in the path of the steed. 

“Well, now you’ve wished it. May we be off?”

“Are you so impatient for your honeymoon, Hubert?” Dorothea lilted, eyes alight with mischief. The others laughed and whooped, their good cheer standing in stark contrast the the gloom emanating off of Hubert. Cecily would have usually joined in her good natured teasing, had the implication not so intimately involved her. Instead she ducked her head to ensure no one could catch sight of any flash of mortification that slipped past her carefully curated mask. 

“Oh, honestly! Goodbye! I shan’t miss any of you,” he retorted, reaching around her to grab the reigns and urge the horse around Ferdinand and out of the stables, towards the streets of Enbarr. She could hear her former classmates calling after them, their laughter ringing out over the quiet of the morning. She tried to focus on them, for as long as she was able, instead of the feeling of Hubert’s chest pressed into her back, his arms wrapped around her in order to grip the reigns. 

They’d nearly made it out of the city gates before Hubert spoke again, his voice still clipped with irritation.

“I intended to avoid that sort of nonsense. I had assumed they would have taken longer to nurse their hangovers.”

“They meant well,” Cecily replied, trying not to dwell on their words, on prosperity and children and expectation. She could feel a roiling ball of emotion rising in her at the thought, feel the telltale prick of tears welling in her eyes. She blinked them away furiously.

Hubert didn’t answer, just urged the horse through the reenforced gates and down the winding, Imperial road. 

~~~

The hour and a half it took them to reach the manor was a unique and horrid torture. It took everything in him to focus on the road instead of the scent of her hair, the feeling of her pressed against his chest. It was a sweet relief to finally see the familiar gate of his ancestral home, a feeling that was historically foreign in the context of the place.

He led the horse up the eastern path towards the stables, trying not to note how Cecily kept her head stiffly forward—a trick, he knew, to keep him from knowing what caught her interest on the estate. 

Once Yuri’s little bird, always Yuri’s little bird.

They reached the stables and he swung himself off the mare without preamble. He turned to help Cecily down but she ignored his outstretched hand and slid off the side of the saddle, landing in a slight crouch before straightening up and surveying him with those unblinking, doe-like eyes, her face unreadable. 

It was a skill he greatly appreciated, valued, but he hated to see it leveled towards himself. 

She stepped away from the horse as fast as possible, putting him between her and the creature and he suddenly remembered how frightened she’d been of them at the Academy. He’d forgotten how she’d gotten thrown off the beast when Ferdinand had insisted he could teach her, how she’d been kicked, her arm broken by the blow. 

He should have remembered, he’d chewed Ferdinand out after he’d seen her curled on the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks. He’d been too concerned with escaping the prying eyes of their friends to bother readying a carriage, especially when it would extend the journey by an hour. 

What a fine start to their marriage, his forcing her onto a beast she feared for well over an hour without even asking her. 

She must think he’d done it on purpose. It wasn’t like him to forget such things. 

“Would you prefer I give you the tour now or would you like to freshen up from the journey?”

She furrowed her brows at that and glanced down at her dress as if expecting it to be filthy with mud. There was merely a bit of dust from the road along the hem, dust that she brushed off, but not before carefully removing the white leather gloves she’d finally put on when on the horse. 

She’d taken the idea of riding gloves quite literally. 

He just nodded, not bothering to clarify what he had meant by freshen up—he supposed there was little time for decorum aiding in the running of a criminal spy ring. 

He showed her the gardens first on their way to the house, much less lavish and curated than those of the Imperial palace—the Vestra gardens served a much more practical purpose, growing all sorts of poisonous plants. He wondered if she recognized any of them among the colorful blooms—she'd shown an interest in poisonous plants during their Academy days, though that had been a long time ago. 

Still, perhaps some things didn't change. 

She surveyed the beds with interest, trailing a finger over a few of the blooms’ petals as they walked.. 

He hesitated a moment before leading her up the path towards the main entrance. Like the gardens, the manor house was bleak and practical, nothing like the airy halls of the palace or even the sunny rooms of Garreg Mach. It held few happy memories for him, fewer from the time before his father had been executed for his treachery. He nearly felt guilty for bringing her to such a dour place, for intending to leave her here for the remainder of the war. But it would ensure her safety, ensure that she would stay as far as he could manage from the front lines, from Lord Arundel. 

He pushed into the entrance hall, trying to decide where he should start, how he should keep certain parts of the house off-limits, for her own good at least. She didn’t have to know about the basement laboratories or the interrogation cells or—

“Hello. My name is Cecily, it’s very nice to meet you.”

He turned to see her extending a hand to the elderly butler who looked rather taken aback but shook it nonetheless. 

“My name is Thomas, your Grace. It shall be an honor to serve you.”

Her face fell at that, though she quickly replaced it with a smile. “There’s no need to be so formal with me, Cecily is just fine.”

Thomas, for his part, looked uncomfortable at the thought, though he gave the pair of them a short bow before excusing himself to ensure tea would be prepared. He continued the tour through the house, pointing out the drawing room, the library, the spare bedrooms and studies. Their progress through the house was halting, as she couldn’t move past a servant without greeting them and learning their name and their job, without insisting they simply address her as Cecily. 

It took him a moment to realize why it struck him as odd—in each one of these interactions she treated whoever it happened to be as an equal, couldn’t move past them without acknowledging their presence. His father had rarely addressed any of the servants but Thomas, and only to bark out an order or mete out some punishment. He’d taught Hubert to do the same, to treat them as if they didn’t quite exist, or at least filled the same utilitarian role as furniture. 

He realized, about halfway through their stilted tour, that he knew less than half of the names of the faces he recognized, most of which had been serving his family since at least his childhood. 

He’d forgotten that the reason she had known Sylvain at the Academy, that she’d known Dimitri had been because she’d grown up a servant in the Margrave’s house. Before Yuri, before Those That Slither In The Dark had gotten hold of her she had been just a servant girl who’d made friends with the Lord’s son. 

He wondered if the Margrave’s household had been run in the same manner as his father’s, if the servants were meant to be seen and not heard, if seen at all, if mistakes were met with swift beatings. Somehow he doubted Sylvain would have been allowed to befriend her in the first place if that was the case, though perhaps she had been an exception. Perhaps the Margrave had an inkling of something unusual about the little girl, of some strange power that would cause her to be sought out by the Those That Slither in the Dark. 

Or maybe she’d just been a normal little girl before they’d gotten ahold of her. 

That was his other reason for leaving her at the manor. 

Her stark white hair upon meeting her had first aroused his suspicions—Edelgard had told him that all of the hair of the children they experimented on had turned the same shade. She wasn’t sure if it was the stress of it all or something specific they did, but one by one she’d watched the soft brown hair of her siblings turn to a shock of white. Lysithea, too, shared this experience. 

They didn’t, however, share the same amount of scarring. 

Neither Edelgard or Lysithea had been left with any significant scarring, never mind any so plainly visible. He knew some of it could be chalked up to the hard life of being one of Yuri’s little birds, but that too wouldn’t fully explain it. Not when it was so very clear how protective he was over her. 

There, of course, was one significant difference that separated Edelgard and Lysithea from Cecily—they were both the heirs of powerful noble families who had their own roles yet to play. Cecily had only ever been a servant for a margrave. She was far more expendable.

He glanced at her face, shame burning in his belly at the thought. She met his gaze with furrowed brows, her mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“What?”

“I—Thomas should have tea prepared by now. This way.”

He turned on his heel, taking pains to school his face into its usual expression. He lead her to the parlor where tea had indeed been laid out, along with a pot of black Dagdan coffee. 

He pulled her seat out for her without a word. She hesitated a moment before sitting, dropping her gaze to her lap. He reached for the pot of tea on instinct, so used to pouring for Edelgard, her preferred cup mere muscle memory at this point for him to prepare, but stopped. He had no idea what sort of tea Cecily drank, or if she liked it sweetened or with cream. It struck him that he should know his wife’s preference on something so trivial—

His wife.

He glanced up at her to find her examining one of the small tea spoons, brows furrowed as she traced the tiny stamp denoting its authenticity.

“It’s silver. You’re welcome to keep it if you’d so like.”

She glanced back at him before lifting the lid of the teapot and holding the spoon in the liquid for a few seconds before removing it and examining it once more. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“If I intended to poison you, it would not be with arsenic, I assure you.”

She surveyed him a moment before setting the spoon back on the table without a word. He sighed, shaking his head before he poured himself a mouthful and drained his cup without waiting for it to cool. 

“Would you like a cup now, or would you like to wait fifteen minutes to see if I drop dead?”

He noted the slight up-quirk of her lips, though he wasn’t sure if it was brought on by the idea of him poisoning himself to prove a point or if it was because of how quickly he’d spelled out the game. 

“With sugar, if you have it.”

He bit back his knee-jerk response that of course he did, reminding himself for her it was probably a luxury. He made the cup in silence, with two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, just as the Professor had always preferred. Maybe his wife shared the Professor’s sweet tooth. 

He passed her the cup without looking up, making his own coffee in near-reflex—it was after two, which meant he could indulge in a splash of cream in his cup. In the morning and late at night he took it black, without much thought for its taste, only its function. 

He looked up in time to see Cecily take a wary sip of her tea, brows furrowing just slightly at the taste. Perhaps he hadn’t made it sweet enough, then, though he knew he’d find it almost sickeningly so. 

He took a sip of his own cup, trying to find something neutral enough to make into tea time conversation. He supposed they could just sit in silence, and he could learn to ignore the heaviness it came with, the charge that nearly mimicked the build up in energy of a spell. 

It was Cecily who broke the silence first, though her eyes remained glued to the table.

“Are there books I can read here?”

“You may read anything you like.”

“Truly?”

“I ask only that you are careful with the rarer volumes. If there is something you are looking for and unable to locate, Thomas can have it ordered in for you.”

“Are there local book stores?”

“One, outside of Enbarr. But Thomas will simply have it delivered here for you.”

She looked up at that, eyes searching for something in his face. “So, I’m not allowed to leave.”

She figured it out much faster than he’d intended. He’d hoped for a few days—perhaps a week—before the question was raised, enough time, at least, for him to come up with some sort of satisfactory answer. 

But she didn’t wait for one. She just got up and crossed to the door without another word. She returned a few minutes later with a thick volume on poisonous plants which she sat next to her cup and flipped open, propping her elbow on the table as she leafed through to the introduction. She ignored him completely as she began to read, one finger tracing idly under the lines of text, a habit that he’d forgotten about from their school days. 

He noted how she only drank half her cup before refilling it, how she did the same again with her next cup. Too sweet then, significantly so. He’d remember for next time. After a while he got up and grabbed a sheath of reports to go through himself. Usually he would have enjoyed being able to read together—he had always enjoyed their shared studying time at the Academy, even though some days they’d barely spoke a dozen words to one another. 

That had been a pleasant sort of silence, comfortable. 

This was leaden. 

“Is horticulture a hobby of yours?” he asked, trying to force some conversation. She looked up, brows furrowed. He gestured at the book. She just shrugged, returning to her reading. 

He sighed, turning back to his own work. Perhaps silence was the best he could hope for. 

"I've had the master bedroom prepared for you and your bride, your Grace," Thomas said, bowing as he stepped into the sitting room. Cecily had hardly moved the entire day, except when she'd asked for a quill and paper. Then she'd simply turned back to her book, occasionally scrawling notes. He'd tried to subtly read them over his own reports, but they were written in some strange code. He'd need time to do so, time or he'd have to pawn it off to one of his codebreakers. 

Cecily looked up, though, at Thomas's statement, her mismatched eyes wide before she schooled her expression. 

She was frightened. Frightened of him, of sharing a room, a bed. The woman he loved was frightened of him. 

He couldn't blame her, of course. How could he, when his hands were stained black with the remnants of all the ill he'd done in the name of Edelgard's dream, all the blood he'd spilt?

Or, at least they had been. One remained discolored, spiderwebbed with the remnants of his dark magic, while the other was now entirely unblemished but for a few silvered scars. A fool might think it a portent, a chance to start anew.

He saw only reason for Arundel's interest, reason for others to harm her, to steal her away. She was only safe where he could protect her. He'd already seen to it personally that the bedroom was warded, ridiculously so, so that only he and she could hope to pass over the threshold if they were active. 

There wasn't anything for it--they'd have to share a bed, at least every so often. They were husband and wife now, it wouldn't for the servants to go spreading how they hadn't shared a room, even in their first night together at the manor. 

He sighed, folding up the remainder of his reports. She carefully marked her page, avoiding looking at him. 

"I--I suppose it is time to retire," he said softly. Cecily didn't respond, though she followed him from the drawing room, up the stairs to the bedroom. He pushed inside, waving a hand over the door to redo the arcane lock--he should teach her how to make one herself, along with the wards. It shouldn't be so difficult for her now, considering the level of her skill.

It was odd that it had been faith magic that she'd finally seemed to grasp, though perhaps it was not faith in the goddess that she relied on, but something else. She'd never had much patience for the goddess in school, but then again, maybe things had changed. 

She paused as they entered the room, eyes flicking over the vases of flowers that had been placed on every surface, flowers that didn’t didn’t quite disguise the dark, dreariness of the space. Still, it had to be better than the broom closet she called a room in Abyss, had to be better than whatever safe house she’d been hiding out in out in Rowe. 

He crossed to the wardrobe he’d had Thomas prepare, making a face at the slim offerings—he’d need to send the tailor to make her some new clothes, proper clothes that fit and were worthy of her. Still, he picked out a soft night dress and a long silk robe, grabbing a pair of slippers that should have matched, but didn’t. 

“I—I’ll run you a bath. I have a few things I need to discuss with Thomas,” he said. She didn’t react, instead just standing and staring as if not quite seeing the room around her. He set the clothes neatly on the stool in the bathroom and filled the large, clawfoot tub. He left out an array of scented soaps and oils, whatever she might like—he’d guessed she might prefer something floral or botanical, considering how she’d enjoyed the gardens and the greenhouse at the academy, but in reality, he had no idea.

He knew so little about his wife, and yet—

And yet there was little that he wouldn’t do for her comfort or safety. How could he know so little about the woman he loved?

He crossed back to the bedroom, only to find her standing in the same place, eyes still face away. He crossed to her side, concern creasing his forehead. 

“Cecily?”

She startled, eyes flicking to him, and then nodded. “Yes, sorry. Thank you for running the bath.”

She crossed to the bathroom without another word, the lock clicking into place. Hubert lingered a moment more before setting out to find Thomas. He found him in small office off the kitchen going through the bookkeeping. He stood as he spotted Hubert, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Congratulations, your Grace. The Marquess appears a fine young woman,” Thomas said with a rare smile. “The staff are quite excited to have you both home.”

“It is only for a day or so.”

“I suppose it makes sense you both should stay in Enbarr, close to the Emperor. Still, we shall ensure the manor is ready for you, whenever you and the Marquess wish it.”

“Only I will be returning to Enbarr. The Marquess will remain at the manor. She—she is to stay at the manor, and all guests are to go through my approval.”

“Your Grace—“

“House Vestra has never been well liked, Thomas, and she was not born of noble blood. Many are unhappy about our union and we are still at war. Our enemies will no doubt be even less enthused and she had ties to the Kingdom. Her safety must be paramount.”

“Understood, your Grace,” he said with a nod, though his eyes searched Hubert’s face in a way that made him feel like he was ten years old again. 

“There is also the matter of her allowance—she should have three thousand gold pieces a month for whatever she’d like to do with the house, as well as whatever she needs for a new wardrobe and and books. She’s always been an avid reader.”

“I will make note of it.”

“Any letters she wishes to send should be forwarded to me and I will see them posted.

“Of course, your Grace.”

Hubert nodded to himself before turning and climbing back upstairs to his bedroom. Cecily was sat at the small vanity, ripping a brush through her hair with little regard for either her hair or scalp, buried in a thick tome she’d propped up against the mirror. 

Hubert crossed to her side without thought, pulling the brush from her hand. She jumped, eyes going wide as whipped around to look at him.

“You won’t have any hair left if you keep that up,” he said, digging through one of the vanity drawers to find a small bottle of hair oil. He hesitated a moment before removing his gloves and placing a few drops on his palm, which he then began to work through the ends of her hair.

“What are you doing?” She asked sharply, every muscle tensed as if she were about to run or fight. Hubert just shook his head. 

“The oil helps with the tangles,” he said, ignoring she sharpness of her gaze as he began brushing out her hair properly, working out the knots from the ends before working his way up. Cecily sat stiffly, eyes locked on the surface of the vanity.

He knew he should have called one of the maids in to aid her, as they would be doing moving forward, as was expected of a Marquess, but—this was something small he could do, to take care of her. Some small way to show her she needn’t ever fear his touch. A small way he could reassure himself that she was safe, that she was taken care of. 

That he was taking care of her. 

They didn’t speak as he finished brushing her hair, nor as he braided it, securing it with the familiar faded purple ribbon she’d always worn at school. It was real silk, if a low grade and he’d guess one of the finer things she’d owned in Abyss. She’d always worn it, and he’d seen her more than once repairing it as it began to fray. 

“Hopefully you find that satisfactory,” he said, stepping away to retrieve his own nightclothes. Cecily didn’t say anything, nor did she move, even when he crossed to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. 

He wished she’d rage at him, fight with him, do something other than sit silently and frightened as a songbird above a cat. If he’d been able to convince her of their plan before, would she have broken like this? Would she have still been the lively, brilliant creature he remembered?

Could he ever hope to put her back together?

Still, he had to remind himself that it was for her benefit, that it was the only way he could ensure Arundel could dare hope to touch her. 

That her hatred was a fair price for her safety. 

He didn’t speak as he returned to the bedroom—their bedroom, now—instead merely grabbing his stack of reports as he crossed to the bed. He wasn’t tired, but he couldn’t lock himself away in his study, as he usually would. He tried to concentrate on his reports, but his eyes kept flicking to where Cecily still sat, as if frozen. 

It was well after midnight before she moved, stiffly rising from the stool and slipping off her robe. She took time to fold it before padding silently to the bed. He watched her hesitate for a moment, though he kept his eyes on his report, before she slipped under the covers.

Her hands were trembling. 

He placed his reports on the nightstand and put out the lights except for the candle on her bedside table with a flick of his hand. He turned to face away from her, pulling the blankets up around him. He knew he’d likely not sleep a moment, but he could at least pretend, if it would put her at ease. 

Next

[kabura-maru]

Another Yuri stan here! Could I request 1 and 13 with him please? - 🌼

A sunflower?? Another anon??? Oh fun!!!

Also I did this on my break thats why its probably bad

—

Yuri Leclerc

“What are their pet names for you?”

He’d have one serious one he uses likely in private.. something like “love” or “beloved”

He also has a bunch of teasing ones he uses like “angel face”, “princess”, and maybe even “little miss” (he likes to use them when you’re angry or the like)

“Traits they like in a partner?”

Yuri is pretty confident and forward, so it would be easiest for him to be with someone not overly headstrong or stubborn... though that’s not necessarily something he actively looks for.

His biggest concern? Trustworthiness. If you’re going to be his life partner, he has to be able to trust you with anything! And part of that trust would also be for you to trust him back. He might not end up sharing everything, he can be secretive even with you, but you gotta be able to trust that it’s nothing bad and he only intends the best for you.

Another plus: if you’re shorter than him. I feel like he really likes to tease so using your shoulders for him to rest on is a plus lol